Chapter 15

The day broke with the sound of a hair dryer going. “Ashlee, it’s too early.” I muttered and rolled over putting the pillow over my head.

The hair dryer continued.

How am I supposed to get any sleep with that darn thing going.

“Ashlee... “ That was as far as I got. My brain finally kicked in when I opened my eyes. I was not at home. The woman holding the hair dryer was not my wife.

I sat there for a second. Brenda saw my movement and turned to me shutting off the darn thing. “What daddy?”

“You’re not 17 anymore are you?” I said gazing upon her womanly curves. She had on the latest boy-cut panties along with a lacy push up bra, both made by Victoria’s Secret.

She spun around showing me the rest of her. “Nope, not 17 anymore daddy. Am I beautiful?”

She struck a pose right out of the catalog, “Yes honey, you are very beautiful. You put the other women to shame.”

She came over to me and kissed my cheek. “Thanks daddy, that is just what I wanted to hear.”

“You’re welcome sweetie.” she went back her hair and I managed to get out of bed without making a show of the erection that had sprung up while I reviewed my daughter. I felt a bit of shame, but pushed it back in my mind. Every father in the world has to look upon his daughter and tell her that she is beautiful. Maybe not in her underwear, but every dad has to make sure his daughter knows she is beautiful.

We had breakfast in the hotel restaurant then went out to meet the lorry that was going to pick up our car and transport it to the track. We were going to ride in a limo to the track so that we wouldn’t get lost.

The lorry driver loaded the car with indifference to the value of the car and drove off with us following behind riding in the limo.

Traffic in London SUCKS!!! I mean really, really, really sucks!!! Everything we saw out of the windows were amazing, but still it took us over and hour to get where we needed to go.

We pulled through the gate to the airport and up to the side of the large hangar building with the Top Gear logo on the side of the building. We got out and watched as the lorry unloaded our car near the garage. The crew in the garage all came out and watched the driver work.

Our arrival brought the Jeremy, James and Richard out of the hanger as I opened the door and got in.

The assembled group were all watching me so, why not give them a show. I pushed the start button and VAAARRROOOOM

Everyone mouthed WOW.

I left the engine running and then flipped the latch to open the back and front hatches.

“Now, this is where things gets interesting.” I said as I opened it and the group all looked around under the hood.

“What the FUCK did you do to that engine?” one of the engineers shouted.

Well that got the rest of the guys giving it a closer look and after several minutes of them talking among themselves, they all looked at me. i reached in, shut the engine off and began. “Gentlemen, may I introduce you to the Koenigsegg XFE engine. Extreme Fuel Efficiency. Christian Von Koenigsegg has developed a twin turbo, V8 that will get over 80 miles per gallon without the weight or need for camshafts or timing chains.”

“He bloody did it.” I don’t know who said it, but Jeremy continued. “I had heard rumors that Koenigsegg was working on this, I had no idea that he finally got it working.” He looked to me, “How did you get involved with this?” he asked me.

“I also heard about the rumors but I went to his office and wrote a check for the car and a working engine, giving him enough money to finish what he started and after a couple of years, here we are.”

“So it works then?” A mechanic asked from the other side of the car.

“Yes it does. I mean I drove it down from Sweden which proves that it works and if you look at the odometer, it has been working for a long time.”

The guys looked it over some more and then another truck load of people arrived and spoke with Jeremy then got started attaching cameras to the inside and the outside of the car and getting James mic’d up. “Really? Captain Slow is going to do this segment?” I asked a bit shocked but still laughing at the situation.

A young man came to me, “Mr Johnson, I’m Bernard and I’m the producer of Top Gear. I wanted to thank you for allowing us to film the car, this is very generous of you.”

“Sure. I’m glad to be here. But James May? Really?”

“Oh yes sir. The juxtaposition between the extreme car and James will make for a really funny segment. Just you watch.”

“It’s ok dad. Let them work. I have a good feeling about this.” Brenda said stepping to my side at just the right time.

I took my daughter’s hand and allowed them to work.

The morning and afternoon passed quickly. I was taken to a trailer where all of the TV equipment was set up and I sat and watched James May take my car around and around the track at great speed often times shouting with joy as he hit the accelerator and rocketed out of a corner onto a straight. I laughed several times at his antics.

Brenda and I were shown into a small conference room where a very short and skinny man stood waiting to show us around the track. He didn’t identify himself but assured us that he was the man in the know on this track. He explained how the track is a figure 8 and where the exits and entrances were on the track and how to get the most out of your vehicle to make it go fast. We spent two hours just talking.

The car was brought back to us with a very tired and disheveled James May standing off to the side talking to Richard and Jeremy. Jeremy pulled a phone out of his pocket and I saw him dial it and speak to someone before Brenda and I were shown to the cars we would be driving.

The teacher introduced us to our cars, both four door, hatchbacks with a four cylinder engines. I got the red one for stars and Brenda was shown to the other grey one reserved for Formula 1 drivers.

Brenda and i took several laps of their track working on going faster and faster through the corners and down the straights and by the time later afternoon arrived, both of us were pretty well versed in the track layout.

The producer met us after we parked the cars. “So, do you think you are ready for your filmed hot lap?”

Brenda and I both said yes and the producer went back to his radio letting everyone know that this was for the record. I put on the helmet, was strapped in and taken to the starting line.

“Ok, this is for all the marbles.” I said to no one. Except for the little camera on the dash pointing toward me. The starting man counted down, 3, 2, 1, GO!

I went. I popped the clutch and the little car got off the line pretty quickly. The first corner is a long gentle sweep to the right, then hard on the breaks for the first left hander. The short straight took me to Chicago for a hard right hand then down the long straight to the hammerhead corner which is a hard right followed by an immediate hard left then another long hard on the gas right turn. The long straight then hard on the breaks for the right, the same short straight then hard on the breaks for the left at bentley corner. Down another straight toward bacharach corner, a short straight to gambon and the final left to the start finish line. i didn’t hit the brakes until I was well past the start/finish line. I drove back to the rally point and everyone was standing around talking and looking at their watches. Brenda was bouncing with joy so when i managed to get out of the car she jumped into my arms and congratulated me on my run. “Oh daddy, you did great. It was really close to the top of the charts.”

“Thanks honey.”

I went over to the men who wouldn’t tell me how fast it was but all said that I did very well.

Brenda’s car was brought over and she got ready for her lap. I moved over near the producer and other guys to try and get a look the stop watches, but once they noticed me, they shooed me away, “You can’t be here Mr Johnson, It will ruin the surprise.”

“Ok fine.” I moved away and stood watching as Brenda took the car through its paces. She also dropped the clutch and took off quite quickly. The one thing I noticed was that she used all of the track in the corners when she went through them. Tight in, wide out, and with the gas pedal firmly planted on the floor.